Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
No…this can’t be.
And then all at once, I begin to see it as clear as day. Scenes jump out at me. In book one, Amelia had a scary-high fever that wouldn’t break for days and Julian refused to leave her side, claiming it was part of his job. The whole time he acted as if he was begrudgingly taking care of her, draping cool cloths across her forehead and spoon-feeding her…but was he? In book two, they’re paired together for an inventory check. I tore through that scene—barely coming up for air—because I assumed they were going to come to blows when they accidentally got stuck in the airlock chamber for four hours. Their banter was electric.
Beyond that, he’s always just needled her in the most aggravating ways. He’s always called her Blondie, which Amelia has always claimed to hate, and I’ve felt that hatred as a reader. She’s his captain! To call her that is disrespectful and rude. Amelia is so careful and buttoned-up with the rest of the crew, the perfect leader, but with Julian, all that flies out the window. He is her weakness.
“He loves her. He always has,” Nate says, finally turning to look at me over his shoulder. “I understand that now in a way I didn’t before.”
My fingers feel tingly. I want to be enraged that Nate’s just given away a spoiler like that, but then I have to remember that’s what we’re doing here—writing the novel, inevitably spoiling it.
“I didn’t like him in the first two books,” I say faintly. I’m not talking to Nate so much as working through this revelation out loud.
“No one did. Not even Amelia.”
My gaze flits up to his, my heart pounding. “When does she realize it?”
“Not until it’s nearly too late.”
I drag my hands down my face, exasperated by this turn of events. This changes everything! The internet is going to break over this news. Fans have loved Amelia and Marcus together for years. There are thousands of fan art images and videos inspired by their love story.
“How does it first happen? How do they get together? Have you envisioned it or—”
“During a fight.”
Of course. Amelia and Julian love to fight.
“Does he kiss her then?”
I swear Nate is almost smiling as he nods. “Yes.”
God, I bet that’s a good kiss. Nate will write that kiss so that a million hands will curl into fists, a million hearts will race with anticipation and longing. I feel like I need to sit down. “I’m not sure he’s good for her in the long run.”
Never mind that we’re talking about fictional people. They feel real to me. It is real, at least here and now.
“He is,” Nate confirms. There’s no opening for an argument. He sees what I can’t. He knows the truth.
God, Amelia and Julian?! How…
I realize something and wince. Again, my gaze captures his. “Does Marcus get hurt?”
His mouth flattens into a frown. “There’s no way to avoid it.”
My eyes widen. Now I’m gesticulating with my hands, going to bat for Marcus. “You could weaken his feelings for her, make him less involved. Maybe have him be interested in someone else? Eleanor or Nadia? Nadia is another engineer—they would have that in common.”
He tilts his head, studying me for a moment. “Do you think Marcus wants Nadia?”
No. Not at all.
He shakes his head firmly, his mind already made up. “It cheapens it for the reader. Marcus loves Amelia. He will put up a fight.”
I throw up my hands and walk away. This is too much. I’m going to do laundry and process this revelation and try not to let it derail my entire day.
I want that scene. To hell with the rest of the plot, the rising climax and the pulse-pounding conclusion. I want Nate to get to work on that kiss. I want to know how he’s going to do it. Already, my loyalties are shifting. While I’m hand-washing my clothes in the upstairs bathtub, I reconsider Marcus and Amelia’s relationship. Marcus wasn’t perfect for her, not exactly, but I was willing to overlook that before. He has never been Amelia’s complement so much as her equal, too much like her in every way. She was comfortable with Marcus, and the reader wanted that for her because in a world where everything else was a jumbled mess, it was good for Amelia to have that steady partner by her side, someone she could really depend on day in and day out. But deep down, there was no challenge for her there, and Amelia, beyond anything else, loves to conquer a challenge.
I hang my clothes on a line in the upstairs hallway with a fan oscillating back and forth, drying them slowly. I should be embarrassed that I’m hanging my panties and bras up in plain sight, but I’m too preoccupied to care.